After paying ever-rising rents in and around New York City for 20 years, I started hearing a voice. “Go north, middle-aged man,” it whispered. The American dream of homeownership was calling.  A writer friend had told me about the Peekskill Art Lofts co-op, less than an hour’s ride from Grand Central. When I’m not playing the jump blues on guitars, I write fiction, poetry, and nonfiction, and the idea of living among other artists was intriguing. We spoke a common language. What could go wrong?     Read the article………………